This here is hallowed ground
Simply because I say so
Hold your tongue; not a sound
On this here hallowed ground

This here is a spiritual place
Simply because it is
Feel catharsis in the tears on your face
In this here spiritual place

This here is wrong
Simply because I don't understand it
Don't be like them or sing their songs
Because that, they, are wrong.

This here is right
Only because it's black and white
Don't you ever stray from what we like
Conform with us tonight.

Dirt brown washes in with roof top shingle gray.
Arms they are , long, slender arms.
Growing out of each, is another arm
and another arm
and another
and another.
Each growing out shorter and more slender.
Each a part of the same being yet,
Each has its’ own mind.
A mind with the same goal.
“GROW”
So delicate these arms are.
Pushed so easily by the wind.
That won't stop them though.
No, they will grow.
They grow and grow and grow.
As they grow the arms will embrace the wind and sway in the most elegant way.
Then when these long slender arm reach their goals end, they will grow again.
They will grow a hand.
A hand with fingers flat and pointed oval shaped.
Unlike the arms the fingers will be green.
A green that is as if a paintbrush mixed a lime and seaweed into one.
Now one day whether the arms know it or not it’s fingers will change.
Its’ fingers will change colors.
Colors of an unorthodox bipolar rainbow.
Then when the colors of the this rainbow reach an end the fingers will fall.
Each and every one will fall, fall,  fall.
That is okay though because the time will come when
those fingers will
GROW
again.

Its all too familiar the way my life is now.
I wonder how it will end this time.
I guess we'll wait and see.

Stupid little children come here to die
And stupid little children cry
Stupid little children stall for time
Stupid little child of mine

Stupid little children let the mirror tell them lies
Stupid little children jump and don't fly
Stupid little children's smiles reach their eyes
Stupid little child is hurting inside

Stupid little children are ready but so scared
Stupid little children waiting for someone to appear
Stupid little children can't shake the fear
Stupid little children so far but so near

Stupid little children scrubbing their eyes
Stupid little children so stupidly wise
Stupid little children so sick of life
Stupid little child of mine

Stupid little children no one understands
Stupid little children waiting for a helping hand
Stupid little children sinking in the sand
Stupid little children can't find land

Stupid little children
Stupid child of mine
Stupid little children
I'm one of their kind

~

Might we…


Might we…
pass on a sidewalk framed by clearance sales
and hot dog vendors
Smiling as to take our attention,
brand our thoughts cosmetically,
alter our daydreams to cast a glow
amidst the haze that is this destiny

Might we…
stand on lonely platforms
watching the smoke in the distance
as the 5:00 o’clock
Sunset Liner approaches
with a full head of steam
distracting our eyes with a forgotten whistle tone

Might we…
whisper meandering thoughts
of great importance on the wind,
wishing them a safe journey
and hoping these words, our love sick phrases
reach the heart of another
sitting in the crowd all alone

Might we…
find if we look beyond the past
covering the darkness
with twinkle lights and glass ornaments,
filling the branches of the future with hope,
that desired happiness
springs from its roots

Might we…
dream of cosmic realities in floral dance steps
on kaleidoscope stairways
winding through our thoughts
delivering us to the floor
just above where our eyes meet

Might we
live in and around long distance shadows
and typed conversations,
dipping into the vast vocabulary
waiting patiently to be shared
between our hearts

Might we…
love